


How Lucky We Are

by Primarina (PastelBrachypelma)



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Cute, Cute Ending, Cutesy, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, References to Depression, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, based on lovely art, hope you don't mind!, only a bit don't worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-28 23:16:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13914255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastelBrachypelma/pseuds/Primarina
Summary: Look around at how lucky we are to be alive right now.





	How Lucky We Are

It’s colder in L.A. than it has any right to be.

Dan feels like he’s been “ugh”ing since he got up this morning and the floorboards under his bed were like ice when his warm toes touched them.

And then, he couldn’t find his contacts, so fuck it. Glasses it was.

And then his glasses are dirty. Ugh.

It’s not until he’s already in the shower that he realizes he has no clean shirts and a single pair of clean underwear, and said pair is the crappy pair of threadbare boxers that are around purely for sentiment, because he just can’t seem to get rid of them for some reason.

Well, okay, he knows the reason.

They’re made of cheap, Ali Baba quality “spandex” in a garishly red hue, printed with tiny little silver dicks.

They’re a gag gift from Arin, wrapped around the real gift. (A silver bracelet with his favorite quote carved into the surface.)

And yes, there’s a tiny dick carved into the inside of the bracelet, because it’s Arin.

Still, just because they’re around doesn’t mean he wears them.

And they’re uncomfortable and a little itchy. Because of course they are. Ugh.

He has all of zero clean shirts. And he could probably get away with wearing the same pair of jeans again, but they’re the pair with the huge-ass rips in the knees, and it’s cold outside. So sweatpants and a sweatshirt (to hide the fact that he’s shirtless) it is!

He looks like a sporty dad. Plus Jewfro. He’s definitely not feeling like a super confident sex god, what people on the internet too young for him to date worship him as.

On the plus side, these are his “I’m sick/getting over illness” sweatpants. They’re soft and fleecy on the inside, and nice and warm to boot. He loves these sweatpants, even though they’re a size too big even with the drawstring pulled tight as it can go.

When he walks into the office, he expects comments about the unfortunate state of his matching tracksuit, but no one cares. Ross is enclosed in his little office, Matt and Ryan are throwing popcorn into each other’s mouths, Brent isn’t even here, and Vernon is curled up on the streaming couch with his headphones on, dead to the world.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Dan has his hand on the Grump Room’s doorknob when warm, muscular arms wrap around his waist from behind, pulling him flush against a firm, slightly sweaty chest.

“Hey,” Arin purrs in Dan’s ear, hooking his chin over Dan’s bony shoulder, which is somewhat cushioned by the fleece in his sweatshirt.

“H-hey,” Dan replies, unable to help the way his face heats up. He and Arin are…something, though he’s not really sure what to call it yet. More than friends, less than lovers. He’s long ago stopped thinking it was strange. It just seemed like the natural progression of their friendship.

“You look so cute,” Arin says, nuzzling into the side of Dan’s neck. “Like a slightly out-of-date marshmallow.”

Dan makes a semi-annoyed noise with his tongue. “Arin,” he complains mildly in an oft-used tone.

Arin shifts, his chin digging into Dan’s shoulder enough that it could possibly bruise, and Dan relaxes into Arin, one hand going over Arin’s arm automatically. (His other hand is trapped in Arin’s bear hug.

Yeah, this is fine.

~

Dan feels fucking awesome right now.

He’s just had dinner, so he feels lazy and warm. He’s sitting on the couch, playing some kind of rip-off of the original Doom, or something like that, on his NES. The lights are turned down low in his living room, and Arin’s bottom half is in his lap.

Dan’s house is toasty warm, so he’s comfortable enough in a Def Leopard tee shirt (the one that Arin stretched out when they switched shirts on stage once…when Dan had acknowledged the word “boyfriend” and Arin’s eyes had lit up like a jack-o-lantern) and his jeans, but Arin has, in typical dramatic fashion, removed his pants because “dude, it’s like a fucking sauna in here!”.

But the weight of Arin’s legs over his makes him feel secure, never mind that Arin is like a fucking weighted blanket, and it lessens the stress he’s been feeling for weeks about “Orgy for One” releasing in just four days. “Eating Food in the Shower” was not well-liked, and he hasn’t released an original NSP song since then. He hopes everyone will love this song just as much as he does.

Bless Arin for showing up at his house, pushing his way in, saying “shut up, I’m making you sushi” and proceeded to make the best salmon rolls Dan had ever tasted.   
It’s Arin’s way of showing that he cared. 

…and that he maybe-possibly heard Dan’s stomach earlier when they were writing for Starbomb at Brian’s house, and Brian teasingly asked if Dan was going to fart.

Arin knows Dan’s stomach is only noisy when it’s hungry or hurting, and he guessed right, the fucker.

Still…

“Dude!” Arin bounces in place, nearly shouting in Dan’s ear. “Nice shot!” He makes a finger gun at the TV with a face that he probably thinks exudes a smooth vibe.

He just ends up looking silly, but praise is praise, and Dan can’t help but blush.

This is good. He couldn’t ask for a better night.

~

Arin opens the door shyly. His hair is a mess, and he’s pale, shaking slightly. He stinks of sweat and faint B.O. He looks awful, and Dan has the sudden thought that he would crawl on his belly over broken glass to get to Arin, jetlag be damned.

“I…I thought…” Arin’s voice sounds croaky, like he might cry, and Dan steps forward immediately as Arin surges towards him, sobbing quietly against his chest. “I thought you weren’t gonna come,” he sniffles, hiding his face in Dan’s shoulder.

Dan wraps his arms around his lover, pulling him closer so that they could almost fuse into a single being. He runs his hands up and down Arin’s spine. He’s literally just off a flight from New Jersey, so exhausted that his eyelids are drooping even now, bags still in the car, but when Arin texted him with a simple “I need you. Can you come?”, he had no choice but to drop everything and run to him.

Arin had been so depressed when he left. Even three days seemed like too long.

“Of course I was gonna come,” Dan soothes, running his fingers through Arin’s greasy hair. He’s not been taking care of himself, it seems. “You need me.”

Arin pulls Dan closer, and the sobs pick up again. Dan shushes him, even though they’re standing outside in a public doorway. He holds him tight until the younger man’s sobs begin to subside. Arin’s grip around Dan’s neck slackens, and his body starts to get heavy. It takes Dan a second to realize Arin is starting to doze off.

He shuffles inside with some difficulty, waking Arin momentarily to take him to the bedroom so they can both sleep. He sets Arin down and toes off his shoes. Arin whines when he doesn’t immediately get into bed.

“Danny?”

“Hold on, Big Cat,” Dan says softly, padding to the en suite bathroom, “just taking my contacts out.”

“Oh.” Arin rolls over onto his back.

When Dan returns, Arin holds his arms out for him, and Dan goes to him, lies down next to him. Arin wraps himself around Dan again, nuzzling into his lean chest, and falls asleep within seconds. 

As Arin breathes against him, somehow already seeming to be in better spirits, Dan blushes, and kisses into Arin’s hair.

This is enough. Even if it smells like B.O.

**Author's Note:**

> Story based on wonderful art by gaygrumpart on tumblr! Here is the post:
> 
> https://grumpyhanson.tumblr.com/post/171116575410/gaygrumpart-request-filled-for-grumppp-could
> 
> Title is based on "That Would be Enough" from the musical Hamilton.


End file.
